


we're not in love.

by fuwaesthetic



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuwaesthetic/pseuds/fuwaesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"write some huntershipping while listening to <a href="http://grooveshark.com/#!/playlist/It+Started+With+A+Whisper/89316916">this</a>" "okay"</p><p>[The thirteen mistakes they made.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. do you want to be with / somebody like me?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sundrymunity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundrymunity/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ lonely hearts club - marina and the diamonds ]

The shop's bell chimes for the third time that morning. Silver rearranges the porcelain figures in the back, as he's done the last few times people have come in, and wonders why today - of all days, with its snow and sleet and angry opaque clouds threatening to bury them all for thinking of leaving the safety of their homes, warm or not - is so busy. It's the winter, however, and he guesses he shouldn't be so surprised.

He's not surprised to see it's the same face that's come in the other two times. Ethan grins, eyes brighter than the antique gas lamps hanging on display across the ceiling, and Silver hides his mouth beneath his scarf.

"Ready?"

Silver hesitates, studying the shop; it wouldn't be bad to step out for a few minutes, as Ethan had requested just the other day, and he pulls on his threadbare gloves as he rounds the counter. Ethan follows him, clutching a red gift bag; he thrusts it at Silver as soon as they step out into the wet, mushy snowfall and chuckles at his expression -- which apparently mirrors his surprise.

"I won't be around for the holidays," Ethan explains, shaking the bag a little, "so I decided to get you something early. You need new ones anyway."

Silver pulls out the contents one by one; there's new gloves (red and white argyle knit, with tiny Stantler around the wrists), a matching scarf, and a lighter. He puts everything but the last item back in, flicking it on and watching the flame come to life. It shudders when Ethan moves closer and goes out when Silver closes it.

He grips the metal in his fist, throat tight.

"Don't say anything," he hisses. It feels like a moment that Ethan would -- and mess it up, because that's what happens when he speaks, and the open mouth closes obediently. Silver licks his lips quietly and wonders, childishly, if he took in enough of the chilled air, if it'd freeze his heart as quick as it froze his legs.

Ethan kisses him anyway, his tongue gliding across Silver's bottom lip. Silver doesn't try to pull away, but he doesn't encourage it; not even when Ethan's bare hands, desperately, pull down his scarf to get a better taste of his skin and he's shaking beneath pressing fingers and the open collar of his jacket. The next moment, Ethan's lips are ghosting the crook of his neck and his arms wrapped tight around his middle. It feels safe.

And scary.

"I'm going home for break, so I won't be around to visit. Don't get too lonely without me?"

Silver tilts his head back to study his tired eyes and the hopeful smile peeking just from the edge of his undone scarf. He plays with the back of Ethan's hair lightly, wishing he could put his new, warmer-looking gloves on.

"No one would."


	2. i'm not in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ not in love - crystal castles ]

Silver watches the city lights pass slowly out of the train's window; Ethan's beside him, asleep despite the music blasting in his earphones, and he feels his head loll onto his shoulder. A warm, wet spot starts a few minutes later and he shoves Ethan off, stomach twisting. His reflection screws its face up out of the corner of his eyes. It's the first thing Ethan gets to see when he opens his eyes, and he still smiles.

Awful. Silver prides himself on not moving back when Ethan pushes himself up enough to press their lips together, in a half-awake attempt at getting rid of his apparently too sour look. It just makes his gut worse, and he waits for Ethan to relax back down into his former position to return his gaze outside.

"We missed our stop," he murmurs. Ethan's eyes flick open again and Silver very casually lays a hand between them. "It was about half an hour ago."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" At least he sounds more awake than he looks. Silver sets his cheek on top of Ethan's head and watches stars fall outside the city limits. "We'll have to wait an hour to get back."

"The city's pretty at night." He feels Ethan shift carefully; an arm slips around his hip and a hand takes his, delicately. He closes his eyes and sneers at the thought of making a wish. "You're better looking when you shut up, too."

"Right back at you," Ethan grumps at him, and he snorts, pleased.


	3. you think you're hot shit / and ooh i love it, i love it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ hot mess - cobra starship ]

Silver is gorgeous when he’s reeling back with a busted lip and a sneer. Ethan rolls his shoulder and step forward, grinding his teeth together when he notices his company isn’t even putting up anything to protect himself. That isn’t fair — if they were going to fight, fist-to-fist as Silver had requested, it was going to hurt on both their ends.

"Put your fists up," he says softly. Silver’s sneer grows, and he wants to punch it off him again. "I’m not going to hit someone when they’re defenseless."

"You didn’t have an issue with it before," Silver counters and Ethan winces; it had been a slip-up almost a year ago. Was he going to hold that over him for the rest of his life?

"You wanted to fight, so act like it."

Silver’s sneer falters for a second; he’s frowning, lip tearing, and then it’s back to his usual. Ethan feels his anger slide off of like water and he steps forward, putting his hands on Silver’s torso.

"I don’t want to fight you," he lies quietly. Silver knows he’s lying and he knows he’s lying, but they never said they’d always be truthful to each other. He feels the punch coming before Silver throws it, too, and he stumbles back when it hits his gut with every ounce of strength tensed in the young man. Ethan holds his middle, choking out a breath, and Silver shoves him back.

He’s caught off balance, easily, and on the second shove he tumbles down and onto the ground. It’s hardpacked dirt and he sucks in a breath, tears pricking at the edge of his eyes, as the impact echoes in his head angrily, and Silver stands above him with feet planted firmly on either side of his torso. The afternoon sun is still high, and he can barely see the expression on Silver’s face — but the blood from his busted lip glitters when it drops on his hoodie, and he’s glad for the color.

"You shouldn’t let your guard down," Silver taunts. He sounds tired, but nothing else reflects that. Ethan forces himself to ignore the pain in the back of his head and grabs his calves, yanking him back. Silver shouts and falls backwards; he lands between Ethan’s legs, gasping when his head collides with the ground, and Ethan sits up between Silver’s legs.

"You shouldn’t let your guard down," he parrots. Silver scowls at him when he sits up, and Ethan gingerly touches a hand to the back of his head. It comes back clean, and so does Silver’s when he touches it - much to the redhead’s displeasure - and when Silver presses their foreheads together, he realizes he’s got him on his lap.

The heat isn’t as sudden as it should be, but his throat constricts any words and his breath hitches when Silver runs a hand through his lazy bedhead and drifts it softly against the back of his neck.


	4. i know i'm a grown-ass man that still acts like an idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ fool like me - cobra starship ]

”This isn’t for you — get your hands out of it!”

The spatula stings on the back of his hands, and Ethan pulls them tight against his chest. He pouts at his companion, even though it never works, and Silver narrows his eyes at him even more than usual before he turns back to the frying pan and continues making … what ever it is he’s making. It smells great though, and Ethan sets his chin on Silver’s shoulder. He purposefully ignores the tensing and the growl that sounds close to his cheek and studies the quick stirring movements instead.

"I didn’t know you could cook." He’s aware he sounds like he’s pouting still. And maybe he is. Like, seriously, if Silver could cook then Ethan definitely would’ve stopped taking him out to lunch _years_ ago! “It smells great. When do we eat?”

"It’s not for you," Silver repeats irritably, then reaches for some spices Ethan can’t name and adds them. "I’ve had to do things for myself for a long time. Why wouldn’t I be able to cook?"

"I live on my own too," Ethan replies defensively. "But I can’t cook like way you can."

It’s probably because he doesn’t try to do anything but instant ramen; Silver’s look says as much and Ethan clears his throat, stepping back.

"I don’t have a lot of time, okay?"

"And I’ve been living by myself since I was nine," Silver slides to the counter on the left and slices carrots expertly; he adds them to the stir fry and — well, it isn’t a pretty mess, but it really does look and smell great. Ethan feels his mouth water and swallows voluntarily to clear it.

"Really? Sounds rough."

It’s an understatement, so Silver doesn’t respond. Ethan licks his lips and heads to the other side of the kitchenette, digging for a second apron and finding a cute, never-worn Igglybuff-themed one. Aw, he had given Silver this one last Christmas too —

"I’m here to help," he announces when he returns to Silver’s side. The latter side eyes him, then elbows him out of the way and shuffles the stir fry onto two plates. Ethan draws his eyebrows together, a question on the edge of his mouth, and Silver huffs when he looks at him.

"I made too much," he explains with forced detachedness, "so you can have some. I’m not going to eat a bunch of vegetables."


End file.
